


Girls like Boys

by h-uxed (disappearingcheshire)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Pegging, tattooed kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:42:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8834383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappearingcheshire/pseuds/h-uxed
Summary: The modern AU where Bazine and Kylo are friends who indulge in the occasional benefit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written because a few people asked for Phasma and Kylo after I posted some of my Phux pegging on tumblr. Since I'm not a fan of the ship, I tried to compromise with this instead c:

His tattoos are stark against the sheets, the arms pinned above his head covered in ink. Beneath the images, his muscles shift, his biceps flexing as Kylo tightens his fingers in the ones they’re threaded with. His knees are pushed back, his thighs spread for the woman slowly thrusting into him. Bazine braces herself with their joined hands, her body stretched over his. Heat is spreading out from his groin, pooling in the heavy jut of his cock, already leaking against his stomach. Hissing when the other drops her weight, letting him skim against her, Kylo rocks instinctively towards the friction, and finds himself rewarded with an easy pump of her hips. The motion seats the strap-on deeper, opening him around the girth, and his head falls back on a curse.

For one breath, then another, he concentrates on the burn. A smirk slides against his throat, followed by the nip of teeth. His own lips curve into a grin, “Dick.”

Affection zings through him at the familiar chuckle he gets, and this time the mouth that greets him is feral and teasing, “You big baby.”

As if to make a point, Bazine releases his hands, sinking back on her heels. Before Kylo can mourn the loss, she takes him in her fist, stroking over stiff flesh. It makes him dig his heels into the mattress, his legs falling wider as the tension finds him automatically bearing down on the toy.

“Fuuuuck.”

The pleasure is deeper, thrumming from the ache in his balls to the hard rise of his nipples. Clenching his abdomen, Kylo props onto his elbows, his hair loose in its topknot and his face flushed. He’s not expecting the way the sight almost undoes him, the one of Bazine between his legs, rolling her hips against his ass. It’s the way his body - big and broad, made from heavy muscle and swirling ink - almost dwarfs her, strong though she is, yet still looks natural underneath her. She’s wearing the bra he likes, a scrap of lace he can see her nipple ring through, and her dog tags. Kylo has always enjoyed her contrasts - soft flesh on hard muscle, trim curves and calloused hands - but seeing it now, her hips round, the cock inside of him hard, makes him desperate.

His jaw slackens with a groan, which only increases as her rhythm does, rutting into him. Obligingly, he lets Bazine push his leg up, her grip sure, manipulating his body to take her deeper. Watching him with heavy lids, she hilts herself to the base, dragging nails over his thigh when he tucks his calf around her hip. This time when she leans forward, her palms flatten by his hips, giving her the leverage to move with force. Pressure is building along his spine, erupting into a firestorm when her next thrust bumps against his prostate. Without thinking, he tries to make it happen again, lifting his ass into the penetration, slick and hot from the lubricant. The raised brow she sends him tells Kylo the other knows exactly what she’s done, and with a smirk, she slams forward, repeating the contact.

“Shit!”

It’s the only confirmation Bazine needs, and she begins to drive into him, both of them panting. For a frustrated moment, he can’t seem to find the rhythm to match, his laugh breathless as he fumbles, wondering how other people manage. Helping him out, Bazine coaxes him to follow her lead until their hips are surging in tandem and Kylo is rasping out expletives. His dick is flushed and wet, so sensitive his toes curl when he finally gets a fist on himself. He feels full and stretched, his body stimulated from too many points. When Bazine reaches forward, pushing the heel of her hand against his lower abdomen, everything spikes white hot, and Kylo knows he isn’t going to last. She switches between fucking him in long, smooth strokes, and short, teasing grinds, the pattern frustrating and perfect.

It hits him just before the chord of tension snaps that she’s fucking him the way he sometimes fucks her - pounding into him the same way Kylo likes to pound into others, buried to the balls and riding hard. He arcs, caught between the duality, between heat and friction, and cums with a shout. His orgasm is blinding, his blood roaring in his ears, and before it’s done, he stripes his own chest. Panting, Kylo collapses onto his back, waiting for reality to return bit by bit. His legs are kicked open loosely around Bazine, who seems to have pulled out sometime when his brain was broken. 

For a moment, there’s only the sound of Kylo catching his breath, and languid afterglow. He swallows, searching for his voice, and manages to lift his head. His hair is sticking up ridiculously and his grin is just as ridiculously pleased when he blurts, “That was fucking awesome.”

Bazine returns his look with a smug one of her own, “Told you.”

Watching her strip out of the harness, Kylo leans back expectantly, his leer softened by his flush. He’s not disappointed. When the other crawls up his body, her knees straddled over his shoulders, his grip is warm and heavy, hauling her onto his face to return the favor.


End file.
